


Different Mechanisms

by ifdragonscouldtalk



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, BAMF Stiles, Gen, Hurt Stiles, Post-Nogitsune, Post-Season/Series 03, Stiles-centric
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-07
Updated: 2018-03-07
Packaged: 2019-03-28 01:49:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,257
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13893681
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ifdragonscouldtalk/pseuds/ifdragonscouldtalk
Summary: “Lydia, did you hear anything?” Scott asked, his voice steady but his hand shaking at his side. Isaac swallowed thickly, staring at his alpha with eyes full of fear. The banshee shook her head slowly, tears starting to gather in her eyes.“No, no I didn’t- I-”“That’s because no one’s going to die,” Stiles interrupted, his voice raised. Their heads snapped towards him. He was looking at them, face pale but gaze steady. “Just calm down, alright. Scott, keep Isaac still. Isaac, calm down before you send yourself into panic. You’re going to be fine. Allison, get my toolbox out of the Jeep.”“And what are you going to do?” Peter asked, sarcasm and doubt dripping from his voice but his grip tight on Malia’s arm, who was staring at Stiles like he’d grown a second head. Stiles looked down, his jaw going tight, before looking back up again, eyes dark and heart speeding up audibly to the wolves.“Did all of you forget?” His voice trembled, breaths coming quicker. “I built a bomb."





	Different Mechanisms

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! This is my first foray into the Teen Wolf fandom (honestly, I'm super disappointed in the show but I like Stiles and Dylan O'Brien has a nice face, so I watched most of it lol). This got to be way longer than I expected it to be, but I hope it's okay and I did everything justice. I already have another Teen Wolf fic planned, an episode fic (which I've never done before!) so I hope I'll be able to write that soon. In the meantime, enjoy!

They were laughing as they opened the door, talking and joking at each other, Derek rolling his eyes as Erica ordered Chinese over the phone, Boyd’s hand in hers. Stiles saw it first, but Scott heard it.

“Don’t move!” he shouted, grabbing Isaac’s arm and throwing out an arm to stop the people behind him. Isaac startled and went to step back but Stiles jumped behind him, pushing his back and keeping him in place.

“Don’t,” he said, voice trembling in the sudden silence. “I mean it, Isaac, don’t move at all.”

“What’s happening?” the other boy asked, voice also shaking, turning his head slightly to look over his shoulder at the alpha and the human before looking down at his feet where his leg was holding a trip wire taut. “What is that?”

“Oh my God,” Lydia whispered. Derek growled, his hands clenched into fists.

“You know,” Stiles said nervously, laughing at bit as he stepped carefully over the wire and slowly approached the dissected generator that was clanking and whirring like it had a mind of its own, “you should really invest in better security, Derek.”

“Do you smell that?” Scott asked the older wolf, his hand still on Isaac’s arm. Derek’s eyes flashed angrily.

“Yeah, I smell it.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Stiles said, crouching down and examining where the trip wire fed into the generator. “It doesn’t matter right now, okay. Do none of you see what this is?”

“Oh God,” Lydia said again, more of a sob than anything.

“It’s a bomb,” Allison breathed. Peter had his hand on Malia’s arm, holding her back, and Erica stepped back into Boyd’s chest, her face going white.

“Lydia, did you hear anything?” Scott asked, his voice steady but his hand shaking at his side. Isaac swallowed thickly, staring at his alpha with eyes full of fear. The banshee shook her head slowly, tears starting to gather in her eyes.

“No, no I didn’t- I-”

“That’s because no one’s going to die,” Stiles interrupted, his voice raised. Their heads snapped towards him. He was looking at them, face pale but gaze steady. “Just calm down, alright. Scott, keep Isaac still. Isaac, calm down before you send yourself into panic. You’re going to be fine. Allison, get my toolbox out of the Jeep.”

“And what are you going to do?” Peter asked, sarcasm and doubt dripping from his voice but his grip tight on Malia’s arm, who was staring at Stiles like he’d grown a second head (which, considering all they’d seen, wouldn’t even be that surprising). Stiles looked down, his jaw going tight, before looking back up again, eyes dark and heart speeding up audibly to the wolves.

“Did all of you forget?” His voice trembled, breaths coming quicker, and Scott wanted to move to him but Isaac needed him more. “I built a bomb. I know the most about mechanics here. I can do this.” He looked down, and repeated softer, “I can.”

It had taken months to get over the Nogitsune, to finally realize that this was reality and it wouldn’t go away, to come to terms with what he’d been forced to do. To stop waking up to his own screams, smelling blood, his hands red with death. Now, he could deal with it -- most of the time. But that didn’t change the fact that it happened.

“Stiles,” Ethan said softly -- he was always softer than his brother -- “You know it wasn’t you.”

“But I did it!” Stiles roared as he jumped up. “I did it, I made it, I watched my hands do it. I watched myself kill people, I watched myself build a _bomb_ , I-” He stopped, taking a deep breath and biting his lip, closing his eyes so he didn’t see the flinches and the pity. “Allison,” he repeated, opening his eyes to look at her, and she nodded at him before taking off. “Just don’t move,” he said again as he crouched back down and started examining the gutted generator that had resided on the balcony until now, eyes running over every piece of it.

“Stiles-”

“I know you won’t leave,” he interrupted, not looking up as his fingers began to shakily trace the seams, carefully looking over where the wire fed into the rest of the machine. “Because we’re pack. But don’t move.”

They didn’t listen, because when did they ever?

Derek gingerly stepped around Isaac and Scott and over the wire, moving to stand at Stiles’ back, the others following, spread out around the loft but all close enough that he could feel their support. Ethan and Aiden were shielding Lydia, Malia shielding Kira, and he couldn’t help but feel grateful for it, glad that at least they still paid attention to who was the most human of them all.

Allison’s jaw was clenched when she came back, setting a hand on Scott’s shoulder as she carefully stepped through the door and handing the tools to Stiles after a moment of hesitation. “Are you sure you can do this?” she asked in a low voice, more for his benefit than to keep anyone from hearing, since with a bunch of werewolves that was a moot point.

“Not if you keep asking me if I can,” he replied steadily, already looking through his tools, his hands shaking slightly. She hesitated again before nodding and stepping back, easily letting herself be pulled behind Boyd and Erica.

“I can feel your stares,” Stiles muttered around a wrench as he slowly unscrewed different panels around the whirring generator, his hands steady but his voice and shoulders shaking as he deposited the pieces of metal next to him, crouched at an awkward angle to peer inside the contraption. The pack glanced at each other.

“Are you sure that’s safe?” Aiden asked. “Shouldn’t you turn it off first?”

“If I thought I could turn it off, I would’ve. I have to see what’s inside first.” He grabbed a flashlight from the toolbox, spitting out the wrench and squinting into the darkness. Scott squeezed Isaac’s shoulder as he began to tremble, fear and stress making his body shake.

“Stiles,” he said weakly, his voice cracking.

“Don’t,” Stiles replied, his voice also shaking.

“Stiles!”

“Shut up Isaac! I can’t do this if you’re talking! I can’t do this if any of you are talking, alright! Just, just let me work. It’s not going to suddenly blow up. Just stand still.” They all heard the breathed “I hope” he added, and Isaac bit his lip as a tear escaped him, closing his eyes so he didn’t have to watch.

Stiles peered into the generator, watching the whirring fan that blocked him from seeing much of the rest of the parts, frowning deeply and taking deep breaths to steady himself. He had to do this, because it was real. _But what if it isn’t?_ a small voice in the back of his voice said, and he tried to squash it down as his brain moved a thousand miles a minute, trying to piece through how to go about disabling the bomb. _Stiles,_ it said to him more insistently, _what if it weren’t real? What would you do?_ He closed his eyes for a minute, knowing the others could hear the uptick in his heartbeat, trying not to think about the fact that if anyone knew he was talking to himself in his head, he would be sent back to Eichen House in an instant. But he gave the voice the benefit of the doubt, and looked back into the bomb, worrying at his lip.

 _If it weren’t real, then the Nogitsune would’ve made it up,_ he reasoned back, _and it would want me to get as hurt as possible before telling me I failed..._ But what did that have to do with anything? He needed to remove the turbine before anything else, or turn it off, and he couldn’t see if turning it off would trigger anything. The only thing he could do was guess as to whether stopping or removing the fan would trigger something or not.

“Scott,” he said suddenly, and heard several people jump at the sudden noise, “what did you smell?”

“What do you mean?” Scott asked after a moment of hesitation.

“You and Derek said you smelled something. What was it?”

His back turned, he didn’t see the glance Derek and Scott shot at each other. “Well,” Scott started slowly, “I’m pretty sure I’m wrong, but I could swear...”

“It’s Kate,” Derek continued when Scott trailed off. “I smell Kate.”

“But that’s ridiculous,” Stiles gasped, turning to look at them. Their faces were serious and uncomfortable. Allison was staring at Scott like he had just killed someone, her face pale. He nodded.

“We know.”

Stiles took a deep breath before turning back to the bomb, biting his lip so hard he knew it would bruise. He was just going to have to trust that Derek and Scott were right. The question was whether someone was using Kate’s scent, or whether it was really her. Considering Peter was alive, it wouldn’t be the strangest thing he had seen. If it was Kate, how would she have gone about this? Was she as vindictive as the Nogitsune (yes)? Did she intend the bomb for someone specific (Derek)? Did she expect someone to be able to take it apart?

She probably didn’t expect anyone to take the bomb apart. Derek was, when she died, a solitary person, and still lived alone in a mostly unfurnished loft -- of course he would be caught alone. She wouldn’t expect him to realize what was happening before he tripped it, so there’s no way she would expect anyone to be able to disable it.

So there’s no way she would include failsafes. She was too confident in herself for that. He sucked in a breath through his teeth, needing to psych himself up for what he was about to do -- to ready himself for what might happen if he was wrong. He shifted slightly, and he knew Lydia, at least, saw it for what it was, because he heard her sob loudly.

“Stiles no!” she shouted, and he glanced over his shoulder to see Aiden holding her back. The others glanced between him and her in panic.

“Stiles, what are you doing?” Derek growled, using his threatening voice that had stopped working on Stiles around the time Derek had gotten shot with the wolfsbane bullet. He shifted slightly again, making sure he was as much between the bomb and the rest of the pack as he could be before moving to flick the generator off, not waiting for anyone to try and talk him out of it or pull him away. He let out a long breath and an almost sob as the loud noise of the generator slowly stopped, his shoulders slumping.

“Stiles what the fuck?!” someone shouted, but his ears were ringing with relief. He had made the right call, no one was hurt. Now he just had the hard part to get through. _Wonderful,_ he thought to himself, and heard the small voice in the back of his head laugh.

A second later his hands were buried in the generator’s open casing, flashlight clenched between his teeth as he unscrewed and removed the fan, allowing him a better field of view and keeping Derek from ripping him away from the delicate machinery, despite how much they all wanted him to. The pack watched him tensely, fists clenched and faces pale, looking at each other as he muttered quietly to himself, his hands smeared in grease and his hair disheveled.

“Okay,” he said after a few minutes, his voice quiet. “Okay, Isaac, step back. Slowly. Really slowly.”

“What are you doing?” Isaac asked, his voice shaking.

“Just slide your foot back, okay.”

“Stiles?” Allison asked softly.

“I know what I’m doing, just do it.”

Slowly, Isaac stepped back, and collapsed to his knees in tears when they heard the soft click of something within the machine but nothing blew up.

“What did you do?” Peter asked as Stiles glanced over his shoulder.

“Well,” he started, licking his lips nervously. “I basically have my finger covering the equivalent of the firing pin. Someone call Parrish, please?”

It was only later, after the bomb (filled with 3 inch nails, powered wolfsbane, and spears of mistletoe wood) had been disabled and he had collapsed on the couch with his head in his hands that he allowed himself to lose it, allowed the tears to fall and the body-wracking sobs to escape him. Lydia cuddled up to one side of him, Scott to the other, the rest of the pack gathering in around them, congratulating and scolding him.

“You’re not the same,” Lydia finally whispered in his ear, and he couldn’t help his sobs getting louder. “You’re not crazy, or evil. You’re not like the Nogitsune, and it didn’t choose you because you were the weakest. It chose you because you _are_ the strongest, despite everything else. Because the bigger they are the harder they fall -- and it thought it could make you fall. But you didn’t. Everything you did, you tried to help people. And you still do.”

He had nightmares that night, but none of the pack seemed to mind when he woke up and couldn’t tell a dream from reality, counting fingers and reading books and crying with relief. And for the first time in awhile, he felt like he might be able to get through it, eventually.


End file.
